Can't Get Fixed
by Queenie and Kate
Summary: A certain Rent character is just a little annoyed at those around them, specifically one Mark Cohen. start review fishing Um... there's MR? end Besides, there's bitterness and cheap metaphors! RR PLEASE!


**Can't Get Fixed**

By: Erin (Kate)

I am a shell of a person. Really, that's all there is to it. A pathetic shell of a person. Or… you know, not even a shell. I'm like that thing I learned about in Chemistry class—the electrons aren't really in a "shell" like everyone used to think, they're actually in a "cloud". Which makes me a _cloud of a person. Isn't that just lovely?_

They don't see it though, really. I'm just silly, dizzy me. The friend. Of course, there's absolutely _no respect there. What am I supposed to do? I can't change. I've tried, a thousand times. When they get used to you, though, they just see you a certain way._

You know, awhile ago, Mark and Roger and Collins were sitting around and debating life, or art, or civilization, or something major and thought-provoking like that. And, yeah, I was provoked. Thought-provoked enough to share my thoughts. There was hope. Futile pathetic hope, but there was hope. Hope isn't exactly the most long lasting feeling there is, it's pitifully easy to crush. And crush they did. I don't know what I said, but I know it meant something to me. I also know that I barely got through the first sentence when they all started laughing and Mark "shhh"ed at me. _Mark. It's entirely expected from Roger, he's the rude one and we all know it. But this was __Mark. Thank God it wasn't Collins; I would have walked out then and there. Collins laughed. Collins smart and philosophical and he has a right to laugh at anyone who's not. He's the genius. Geniuses always laugh at those who aren't. _

I learned that from the gifted classes in high school. They always babbled about how they were "gifties" and nobody could have ever penetrated that little group. They pretended to be outgoing and "polite", but you knew they thought they were better than you. That's why they stuck together; they were the only ones who could possibly be at a similar level to each other. I always heard them complaining when they weren't in their gifted classes, how everyone else were idiots.

I could have been there! I tested as gifted when I was young, but it didn't matter to them. I didn't fit in. I was good at drama—everyone knows that—but being good at drama wasn't enough. You had to be really good at drama and sports and academics and you "couldn't possibly know what to choose". 

Or, you had to have that _voice. You know the one I mean. The loud one. The one that's "a curse, really, because I just can't __blend'. Everyone can blend. __I can blend. Lara Manna, the best fucking singer in our high school, could blend. Not naturally, obviously, but everyone can blend. _

Not them, apparently. They were a step above the rest.

The rest being me, of course.

And it seems that, the rest still seems to be above me. I'm thinking it's more than a step, nowadays. The gap has been widening; ever since that day in grade 9, when I heard the "gifties" talking about how they were better than me; and I have no idea how far it's gotten now. Far enough to steal any semblance of respect.

I remember, in grade 11, I tried to put on a play with a group of other drama students. It didn't succeed. I did all the work, I put so much of my time into that, but no one listened to me. No one _listens to me. Things don't change._

Maybe I just lied. I guess some… _one person listens to me. Not the person you'd expect. We're the type of people who should have nothing in common- ying and yang. But, hey, when something good hits, you go with it._

Mark Cohen is a ghastly person. Everyone is always like "Oooh, poor Marky. He has such sad eyes. He's always thinking. He's always having to hide behind that camera, and see people the way they are. Marky needs a hug, but he's terrified of physical contact."   

Okay, excuse me? I can dispute that in _so many ways. I could make a list. A nice, little list, like you made to prove a point in a debate. I could even use cue cards, if you so want. _

A) _Poor Mark? Fuck off, he's not as hard off as everyone thinks. He took acting classes for 11 years; he knows how to play up sympathy. I know him better than anyone and that whole "father" issue is a crock. He just randomly decided not to talk to him anymore and people assumed this whole traumatic past._

B) Mark does not _think all the time. I know, quite well, that half the time when he stares off like he does he's replaying books he's read or thinking about… well… he's a male. I don't think I need to complete that sentence._

C) He doesn't "see people they way they are" from behind his camera, either! If he saw people the way they were, he wouldn't treat me like such an idiot the way he does. And for a sensitive boy, he sure doesn't act like he realizes everyone deserves respect.

D) Last point, but… Mark is not terrified of physical contact. He's a promiscuous little shit—

And that's why I'm lying in Benny's bed right now, wedged tightly in his arms and pressed up against the wall. If Mark's gonna be a man-whore, I might as well get my fun too. 

Roger's got more issues than any other human on this planet, Benny's "taken", neither of them should be with either of us. 

Roger should have never been with Mark anyway. But I've heard them, whenever Mark thinks I'm knocked out-drunk, or not home. He's not the most observant child when he's horny. But I've been taking drama classes for _13 years, so I could fake him out, even if he weren't. Doesn't matter, Mark gets what he deserves._

And Benny… we both know we're meant to be together. But we both know it's not possible, the future just wouldn't work. Not in the public eye. So we've got our own private future, it's enough to keep us happy. And as long as we keep it private, we've got Muffy-darling's money to blissfully co-exist on. We even have our own apartment to stay at when it's necessary. 

A gorgeous apartment. Big, high white ceilings, so much space, huge windows… One day it's going to be ours to live in forever. We just need to find a guy with enough seductive to get to that frigid bitch Benny calls "Baby". We both know I'm really his Baby anyway.

Mimi Marquez gets what she wants.

I just wish I knew why I feel so damn empty and broken.  

-----

**Author's Note: Um… I was upset and bitter and this is what came out of it? (And, yeah, the character it was written for changed several times as I wrote it, can you guess what characters I went through?) Well, I've vented and I feel better… what do you all think?**

**Disclaimer: Not mine… Not in a million years. Jonathan Larson's.**

-----


End file.
